


Blue Plate Special

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek The Gentle Seasons Series [56]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: American South, Arabian Nights Reference, Bickering, Casbah Reference, Childhood Memories, Decadent South Reference, Eating, Established Relationship, Exotic Food, Fluff and Humor, Food, Implied Sexual Content, Innuendo, M/M, Mild Language, Naughtiness, Naughty, Suggestive Themes, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25700131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: What foods would represent Spock and McCoy for a blue plate special? That's the topic at breakfast, and of course Jim Kirk gets sucked into the debate. How could he not? It's about his friends, isn't it? And food?!Of course, some of the discussion gets a little naughty. What else could be expected out of these guys?
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock, Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Series: Star Trek The Gentle Seasons Series [56]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/695088
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	Blue Plate Special

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cherry Jelly Doughnuts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18808816) by [StellarLibraryLady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady). 



> Blue plate special is a term used in the United States and Canada to indicate low-priced meals that are changed daily in cafes and diners. The meals are generally centered around cheap, familiar comfort foods.
> 
> I think that I was hungry for something different to eat when I wrote this fic.

Jim Kirk could tell that McCoy and Spock were already at it when he sat down with them in the mess hall that morning, but he decided to fan the flames a little more instead of changing the subject. Sometimes it was downright interesting what they were discussing. And at the least, it was something he wouldn’t have thought about.

This morning proved to be no except.

“Well, guys, what’s up?” he asked and knew he needed to say nothing further to be entertained for the next half hour or so.

McCoy was only too eager to share. “We’re picking dishes out for blue plate specials that would represent us.”

“Oh?” Kirk said with a grin. He seemed to remember a similar discussion about what breakfast food items each one was. “That sounds tasty. What’s on the menu?”

“Well, Spock has to be something from the Southeastern European countries. You know, something exotic and spicy and mysterious with flavors you can’t quite identify yet they hold out the promise of adventure if you try them.”

“That sounds like something with quite a reputation to uphold,” Kirk noted with a grin as he dug into his own plate of food.

“Oh, yeah! You bet! Spock's representative dinner has got a whole lot of vegetables and wild-tasting spices in it that perks up your tongue. And saffron, because that spice comes from that area and is expensive as hell. That's Spock in a nutshell. Wild-tasting and expensive as hell.”

Kirk grinned and waited to see if Spock would grab the bait. But Spock placidly continued eating. Oh, the Vulcan was in fine form! But so was McCoy. They must've been carping and snipping at each other long before they met Kirk who could only wonder at the cause of all of it. It had to be either outstanding morning sex that was still thrilling them, or nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. It could be their form of foreplay for a "quickie" in a janitor's closet or the forerunner of an upcoming, all-night orgy. With these two, there would be no middle ground.

“So what have you come up with?” Kirk prompted McCoy who was eager to answer.

“Moussaka made with eggplant accompanied by a side dish of rice pilaf with the expensive saffron in it. And serve all of that with fattoush, a bread salad with vegetables. And slabs of soft and chewy Balkan country bread to sop up anything that needs sopping.”

“Sounds delicious.”

“Then fig leaves stuffed with goat cheese and figs.”

“Exotic.”

“Followed by slices of casaba melon.”

"Refreshing. To clear the palate, of course.”

“Of course. And for dessert, baklava and chocolate torte. With strong, black coffee to counterbalance the richness of the desserts.”

“Now you’re talking! I’d take a serving of everything! Maybe two.”

“Figured you would,” McCoy muttered. “But who could blame you? That’s all good eating.”

“And healthy,” Spock added.

"Well, a lot of it," McCoy amended.

Kirk had been captured by the picture of opulence and intrigue painted by the food. “And after eating food like that, I expect a person would feel like they’ve had an exotic evening of dining in the Casbah or in a setting straight out of the Arabian Nights. There would be cushions everywhere. Strains of oriental music would be plunking away somewhere in the background. Trailing silken materials would be draping the walls and undulating with the slightest breeze,” he noted. “You couldn’t get any more romantic than that, I expect.”

“It certainly does have its attributes. Imaginative evenings in exotic locations can be quite stimulating. And rewarding,” Spock remarked with a mysterious air of his own which was only intensified by pretty blushes and eager looks from McCoy.

Kirk wondered how often those two had “Arabian Night” evenings with cushions scattered everywhere and strains of oriental music plunking away softly somewhere in the background. Their eyes certainly seemed to be sparkling about something.

Kirk turned to Spock. “So what have you decided for Dr. McCoy? What sort of blue plate special does he represent?” he asked with a grin. “Something Southern, I expect.”

“But, of course, Captain. The problem is, of course, what to have for an entree: baked Virginia ham or Southern fried chicken?”

“You can’t go wrong with either one,” McCoy said with pride.

“And they both fit the doctor so well.”

“What do you mean, Vulcan?” McCoy snapped, suddenly volatile. “Are you saying that I’m hammy?! Or perhaps that I'm crusty like the coating on fried chicken?!”

“Why, I did not know which describes you. Is it that you are honey-sweet to the palate and just salty enough to bring out the flavor of the ham? Or is it that you are succulent and juicy beneath a tasty coating that crunches easily to reveal all of the tenderness inside?” Spock answered diplomatically.

Good save, Kirk thought, as McCoy beamed. Spock had probably earned himself an "Arabian Nights" evening on that speech alone.

“Of course, either is a good choice," Spock continued quickly so McCoy's attention would be diverted. "And I understand that either meat can be served with mounds of buttered mashed potatoes and the appropriate cream gravy. Then all sorts of different vegetables and side dishes such as fried okra, black-eyed peas, collard greens, sweet potatoes, red beans and rice, corn pudding, fritters, and grits can go with the main course.”

“Corn salad goes well with all of that, too," McCoy added. "And Southern ambrosia salad with kiwi, berries, and pineapple. As does sweet tea to wash it all down. And don’t forget the cornbread. Gotta have the cornbread. And buttermilk to dunk it into. Oh, and pepper jelly to add zing to about anything."

Kirk was starting to get bilious just from the thought of all of that food. And he was a big eater! But that Southern table so heavily laden had to be literally groaning. Hard telling how the people enjoying it would fare. Surely, that was enough food for several days and was not meant to be consumed at one sitting. Or perhaps it was some sort of marathon meal. And dessert still had to make an appearance, Kirk reminded himself. And he wasn't about to miss hearing about that.

“And for dessert," Spock said, as if he had read Kirk's mind, "there is strawberry pretzel which can also be used as a salad and can lead diners into the dessert course, or it can be a dessert in itself.”

“Good stuff, Spock. But for an old Georgia boy like me, dessert means peach cobbler. Or blackberry, now that's good eating, too. But if you insist on having cake-- and some fine folks do-- then you must serve the Lady Baltimore Cake. There is nothing finer or more gracious than that Queen of the Southland. When you're eating that, then you know that you are in the heart of Dixie, either for real or just in hollowed thought,” McCoy said, his eyes shining with memories of wonderful meals from his childhood. "And the whole meal is served on the veranda in the shade of the sweetgum trees and the live oaks. And taking hours to eat, while you nibble on first one thing and then the other. And the conversation is good and lively and is with people you love and who love you back. And the breeze coming sweet and cool up off the river around sunset after a particularly hot day. And that breeze just makes you want to strip down and sleep naked out on the lawns while the sounds of night birds call over your head."

"Isn't that kind of dangerous, sleeping outside in the dark like that?" Kirk wanted to know.

"It never really gets that dark in the summertime, especially when there's a full moon sailing overhead," McCoy answered. "And the night is alive with creatures that do their business at that time. And you will feel good that the world is still going on, even while you're resting. And if you're lucky enough to be out there with someone else, you can make sweet, languid love for hours. And the Spanish moss hanging from the live oak trees trails along your naked bodies as if it wants to get in on the action, too. And you wake up from a night like that refreshed and smiling and ready to meet the new day and a breakfast of grits and ham and redeye gravy with peach preserves and drop biscuits. Yes, sir," he said with a fond smile, "that's what living in the Southland is all about."

The picture he painted set them all to dreaming of a lifestyle that once was, but might not ever be again. But it lived in McCoy's memory, just as vividly as his memories of those glorious meals from long ago.

"Yes, sir," McCoy said fondly. "Peach cobbler can always set me to dreaming."

“When you walked up, Captain, we were just discussing the merits of it over pecan pie, another favorite in Southern cooking,” Spock explained so that McCoy could finish coming back gradually from his trip back into yesteryear.

“Sounds like you couldn’t go wrong whichever one you chose. Or whichever type of food you chose, either," Kirk decided. "Either Southern or Mideastern Europe cuisine would make my breakfast puny in comparison,” he noted as he studied his plate of half-eaten scrambled eggs and hash browns with buttered toast. Even the prospects of that glazed donut beside his plate didn't compare with the imagined foods, even if it did have chocolate sprinkles on it, too.

“Well, it was something to dream about while we shoveled in our oatmeal and eggs,” McCoy growled.

Kirk had to get McCoy’s mind off something negative or they’d never hear the end of it, so Kirk said the first thing that popped into his head.

“Those menus all sound good, guys, and seem to be representative of both of you and of your cultures. But you’ve forgotten something, it seems.”

“What?” McCoy wanted to know. “Butter? Salt? Bicarbonate of soda? Surely it couldn’t be anything major.”

“Dairy products,” Kirk answered and waited for the explosion from McCoy.

And he got it.

“Dairy products?! There's goat cheese in Spock's grape leaves! And buttermilk with my cornbread!"

"But no ice cream," Kirk whined. "And it would really be tasty and settling after all of those clashing flavors in the main courses."

"You don't need any ice cream! I don't care how much you like it! Why, we've already listed enough food to feed an army! Or Jim Kirk for a day!”

Even Spock was aghast. “Doctor!”

“Thanks, Bones.” Kirk hadn't been expecting that broadside, and it hurt. Even if it was true.

“Oh, he knows I don’t REALLY mean to hurt him…. Don’t you, Jim?” McCoy asked tentatively.

Kirk grinned. “Sure. I’ve just got lusty appetites. For food… and for other things.”

“You aren’t the only one,” McCoy muttered, then acted like he had let a closely guarded secret slip. And he must have, because Spock tried to look sheepish, but it came out crafty and coy. He must be a demon in the sack, Kirk decided, and McCoy was the lucky recipient.

Well, that answered that question Kirk had always had about Spock and McCoy’s intimate relationship. McCoy must really be able to get the Vulcan going, because all Kirk ever saw of Spock was someone who was very subdued and reserved. But Kirk knew, too, what was always said about still waters. In this case, there must be a hidden, rampaging underground river. Lucky McCoy!

Then Kirk thought of something else. "You know, you guys have kinda gotten away from your main topic."

"What do you mean?" McCoy wanted to know.

"You were supposed to be picking out blue plate specials that represented you. What you guys have listed sound more like banquets. I think you just got carried away and started listing everything that sounded good. Blue plate specials are supposed to be something filling and cheap and get you back on the road or back to work quickly."

"Well, what's your idea of blue plate specials for us then?"

"Well, Bones, you're easy, since Americans like to eat and run. Or eat on the run. They are not to be confused with fast food places like McDonald's or Pizza Hut. Those national franchises are probably what is snuffing out small eateries that serve blue plate specials. An example of that type of meal could be chicken fried steak with white gravy made from milk and pan drippings to spoon over the steak and mashed potatoes. Another comfort food is macaroni and cheese. Or ham and beans. Or fried chicken. Or shepherd's pie or even peach pie," he said with a grin toward McCoy. "But, you, Spock, your Middle Eastern cuisine is not quite as adaptable to be eaten on the go."

"I believe I know what you are meaning, though, Captain," Spock decided. "Our hummus is a chickpea-based soup that would qualify as would our lentil soup. Serve either with pita bread. Or pita could also be filled with meat and vegetables and baked for a pocket bread. As for a dessert item, the aforementioned baklava should be included as a blue plate special. And then there are all sorts of street foods that would qualify, including wraps and roll-ups."

Kirk grinned. "I stand corrected, Mr. Spock. Some of your foods could work very well. Gentlemen," Kirk said, looking at one, then the other. "We've certainly discussed a variety of delicious foods this morning and covered every part of a meal from soup to nuts, as the expression goes--" He suddenly stopped. "No, we haven't!"

"Captain?" Spock asked, alarmed that Kirk looked so startled. "Are you experiencing a health issue?" He worried so about his friends!

"No, no, it isn't that. Sorry to cause you any concern. I just can't believe we missed something! In all that talk about food, too!"

"What?!" McCoy demanded as he held out his hand for emphasis. "What could we have possibly left out?! We've talked about so much rich and exotic and spicy food that we might've given indigestion to anyone listening to us!"

"The items that are supposed to pique our appetites in the first place, Bones! Appetizers!"

McCoy looked disgusted with himself, and Spock raised an eyebrow slightly.

"No, we just rushed into the main courses!" Kirk continued. "And now I'm so inundated with the thought of all of that other food, that I cannot think of anything that could be used as tidbits for something exotic and mysterious for Spock or something that be used to start down-home Southern meals."

"Now, that's a first," McCoy quipped. "Jim Kirk drawing a blank when it comes to food."

"I know," Kirk answered. "It must be overload. I hope that doesn't happen with other things I like," he said with a worried face.

McCoy nodded across the mess hall. "See that new yeoman over there? The one with the curvy figure and the blank look on her face?" He could tell by Kirk's face that they were looking at the same young lady. "Remember what she's good for besides doing the job she signed up for?"

Kirk's face cleared and smiled with interest. "Oh, yeah!"

"You're safe," McCoy muttered. "Your appetites are all in order. We don't need anything to stimulate our appetites around here, even for meals."

“Actually, I know of some Southern foods that are used as appetizers,” Spock announced.

“Oh?” McCoy asked with skepticism. His face also seemed to say that Spock was guilty of overkill, as usual.

“Yes. Spinach and artichoke appetizers. Cheese straws. And if they are not being used in the main course, fried green tomatoes.”

“Actually, that sounds pretty good. And accurate,” McCoy conceded.

“So what about appetizers for me?” Spock prompted. He seemed to know that McCoy didn’t have an answer prepared. “What sort of appetizer would be a good representation of me?”

McCoy thought for a moment, then grinned. “I’ve got it! Raw oysters on the half shell! Let your imaginations explain that!”

Kirk guffawed. He’d never heard of oysters being representative of Mideastern cuisine. Then he remembered that Spock had stipulated that McCoy find an appetizer representative of him. And, by golly, McCoy had done it!

Kirk shot a glimpse at Spock. And Spock must’ve understood the compliment, for he was beaming.

Raw oysters on the half shell, indeed! As if Spock would need any more aphrodisiac than just being around McCoy!

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
